


Kintsugi

by Higuchimon



Category: Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Call It Heads or Tails, Diversity Writing Challenge, Friendship Diversity Boot Camp, Gen, M/M, The Ken/Daisuke is background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23222764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higuchimon/pseuds/Higuchimon
Summary: Iori doesn’t like to go shopping and getting gifts for Ken is the hardest.  Or perhaps not so hard after all.
Relationships: Ichijouji Ken/Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	Kintsugi

**Story:** Kintsugi  
**Characters:** Iori, Ken|| **Ship:** N/A (background Ken x Daisuke)  
**Chapters:** 1-1|| **Words:** 1,000  
**Genre:** Friendship|| **Rated:** G  
**Challenges:** Diversity Writing, Digimon Adventure 02, B13, 1,000; Call It Heads or Tails, level 3, resolution; Friendship Diversity Boot Camp, #28, receive (Ken & Iori)  
**Notes:** This takes place about six years post defeat of BelialVamdemon.  
**Summary:** Iori doesn’t like to go shopping and getting gifts for Ken is the hardest. Or perhaps not so hard after all.

* * *

Iori hated trying to buy presents. He never quite seemed to _get_ people well enough to find them the perfect present, not like Takeru-san or Hikari-san. He could never quite bring himself just to grab something off a shelf and thrust it at the person like Daisuke, either. Oddly enough, whenever Daisuke did that, whoever he gave it to seemed to enjoy it fairly well. 

But now he wandered through the mall, trying to find something that he thought would be suitable for Ichijouji Ken. That wasn’t as easy as some might have thought. The hate he’d held for the Chosen of Kindness faded over the last few years, but he still didn’t _get_ him all that well. 

Perhaps a book? Books were always good, weren’t they? Didn’t Ken like to read? He thought he remembered Daisuke having said something to that effect. Perhaps he should ask Daisuke about it. If anyone were to know what Ichijouji would want, surely it would be his boyfriend? 

_No. I’m going to do this on my own._ Iori could be very stubborn when he wanted to be and he’d determined to choose a gift that would be absolutely perfect. Ken was turning eighteen. Gifts for an eighteen year old should be thoughtful. 

None of the stores that he passed seemed to carry anything that he really wanted to try. He considered stopping at the bookstore, but the simple fact he hadn’t the faintest idea of what Ken would want to read stopped him. He would have to check into that later. 

He wandered up and down the mall, ever so slightly despairing of finding anything that he thought would just _work_. He was on the verge of giving up and calling Daisuke anyway when a quiet voice caught his attention and he turned down a corridor he’d just about missed. 

It wasn’t often that one saw an artist displaying their work here, but it wasn’t entirely unknown. Iori recognized the style at once – kintsugi. The mended glass and ceramics gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, bright gold that drew attention to the former cracks they mended. 

Iori hadn’t thought a great deal about the day that he’d learned his father died recently. Now he remembered, quite vividly, the feel of having one of his favorite glasses in his hand, when his mother’s voice cracked as she spoke on the phone. 

“He’s dead?” She hadn’t sounded as if she believed her own words. Nor had Iori at the time. But as it sank in, his grip on the glass faltered and it crashed downward, shattering neatly in two. 

Everything after that blended in for a while. They’d had to fly to collect his remains and then on the way back, their plane ended up crashing due to the strangeness he later learned was the attack of Vamdemon on Odiaba. He’d seen Digimon for the first time then – he’d not known exactly what they were for years to come. What mattered more to him then was the way his family and life changed. 

Then afterwards, his grandfather brought the mended glass to him, gold glimmering on what had been the crack. 

“Just because it was broken doesn’t mean it can’t become better,” Hida Chikara told him. “We learn from our past mistakes and work to do better.” 

That sank somewhere into the back of Iori’s mind and he’d paid not that much attention to it. The older he got, however, and the more that he saw, the more he began to remember what his grandfather told him. 

He stared thoughtfully at the artwork, then turned on his heel and headed straight home. He knew exactly what he was going to give Ken now. 

* * *

Packages were unwrapped and gifts exclaimed over. Every time he got a new present, Ken politely thanked the giver and set it off to one side so he could move on to the next one. Part of him was already exhausted from all of this. Daisuke promised to take him somewhere quiet and out of the way after the party, somewhere they could relax together. He looked forward to that. 

Iori’s present was the last one. He wondered what the younger Chosen might have decided to give him. They’d never been all that close and most gifts exchanged were very formal ones. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find Iori had given him a book. In fact, he’d given Daisuke a list of books to suggest to Iori if the other ever asked Daisuke for suggestions. 

Though, oddly enough, Daisuke reported that Iori hadn’t ever asked. That made Ken wonder even more. 

“I hope you like this,” Iori said as Ken unwrapped the present. Ken offered a polite smile, removing the wrapping and looking into the box. 

A simple glass. Ken raised it up from the box and saw the indications that it had once been broken and was now mended. The work was beautiful; sunlight from the window arched in and touched on the gold filigree on the glass. This was a glass that had experiences in its existence. 

“Oh, man, that’s gorgeous!” Daisuke breathed. “Really good work!” 

“My grandfather had it done a few years ago,” Iori said quietly. “I broke it when I was about six years old.” 

It only took a few moments for Ken to do the mental math. He wasn’t sure about the details, but he thought he had some ideas on what might have happened. He carefully set the glass where it would be safe. 

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Ken nodded towards Iori, his voice warm and grateful. “I’ll put it to good use.” 

Iori returned the nod, his usually stern features relaxing. Ken set the glass where it would be safe for now. Beauty and usefulness could be found been in what had been broken, but there wasn’t any need to put something – or someone – in unnecessary peril. 

He’d been broken once. With the help of his friends and Wormmon, he never would be again. 

* * *

**The End**

**Notes:** I wrote this to answer a tumblr prompt of broken glass in relation to Iori. Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken glass, pottery, or porcelain with gold. The results are absolutely beautiful.


End file.
